


Coming up for air (rising to a very new somewhere).

by Hyorangejuice



Category: Block B
Genre: Community: blockisbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyorangejuice/pseuds/Hyorangejuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a while Jaehyo's bus arrives. Jiho watches him run towards the open door and disappear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming up for air (rising to a very new somewhere).

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sort of sliding doors!au. As you can probably guess right from the beginning the little signs between the different parts are important as they signal whether the narration is moving backwards or forwards. I hope it's not too confusing.  
> Title is from Patty Larkin Coming up for air, from Sliding Door's OST.  
> Special thanks to r., who as per usual cheered and urged and poked.

-side A: Everything happens for the best, you'll never know if you don't try.

 

►  
PLAY.

 

Jiho you are going to be late, was what his mother shouted, with one foot on the last step of the stairs and a hand on his crooked hip. Jiho could see her, as he rolled out of bed and shouted back, as awake as he could fake, “I'm up!”.  
He wasn't. He fell back asleep with his face squashed on the carpet and woke, twenty minutes later with wrinkles all over his cheek. In his haste to get dressed and grab something, anything to eat he forgot to get his umbrella from under his bed. That's why now he finds himself running, soaking wet, towards the convenience store with his uniform all askew.  
In his haste to find shelter from the rain, he almost falls face-first against the wall of the mini-market, but he catches himself just in time. The raindrops trickle down the side of his face, cold and ticklish. He just has to hope he won't catch a cold, he couldn't really stand being sick and having his mother nag him with her patronizing 'I told you so's.  
Just then he notices someone else, a guy, standing on the other side of the door. He is wearing the uniform of Jiho's school, but the red tag says he's a third year. Jiho's is still in his first, blue name tag hanging from his breast pocket. Squinting a little at his profile, Jiho recognizes him as the guy who sits near the window in his art class. They never talked, what with their different circles of friends and being in different years, but Jiho always found fascinating how Ahn Jaehyo always squints at his canvas as if his subject were sitting right behind the white surface and he had a hard time putting it in focus.  
Jaehyo takes out a square little device, stares at it and then puts it back in the front pocket of his slacks. It disturbs the line of the pants, but Jaehyo doesn't seem to mind.  
It's a pager. It beeps after a while – Jiho has been staring all the while – and Jaehyo scrambles to take it out, almost sending it spiraling in a puddle. There is a small frown on his face, as he reads the message, it starts between his curved brows, down the slope of his nose, bringing down the corners of his mouth.  
A sigh escapes his lips. Jiho remembers his manners and stops staring.

After a while Jaehyo's bus arrives. Jiho watches him run towards the open door and disappear. 

 

►► ►►

 

 

“Would you stop eating dirt!” he tries to sound stern, but it comes out totally wrong, his voice cracks at the end and Rodney doesn't even bother to acknowledge him. He digs deeper, eats more dirt. Jiho can only watch, as his cream coloured muzzle becomes of an unsettling brown topped off with slimy green things. It will be a pleasure to clean it up.

“We're going home. Now.” this time he aims for a lower, more authoritative, voice. He tries to imitate his father's low baritone, the one he pulled out when him or his brother had to be put back in line. Quite a difficult task, if Jiho had to be honest with himself. They had never been ones to half hassle things, both of them, if they were going to be bad, they were going to be really bad. By the time they hit puberty and started to get in trouble outside of the house all of their mother's vases had been moved to the top of the cabinets, on top of wardrobes or simply hidden away in awaiting of better times. At least half of them had been painstakingly glued back together by the two apologetic terrors in the hopes they'd repent and turn on a new page. They never did.  
Last time he heard from his bother it was a sunny day in the middle of spring. A brief phone call during which they exchanged pleasantries and called each other dumbasses. “Call mom, she worries.” Jiseok said laughing and then hung up. It was very much like him to end things that abruptly, when no one expected it. It left Jiho gaping into the receiver of his phone, an insult ready on his lips. It would have to wait, he had told himself, but his brother was still taste-testing shrimps on a cruise and he was still running after his own terror hoping to limit the damages.

“Rodney, come on!” he calls. And when even that fails. “Rodney, food!”

Rodney is a nice dog. He naps on Jiho's shoes while he waits for him to come back from work, doesn't chew on the couch or on any other upholstery in the house, has no problem with the shower jet so Jiho can bathe him home, instead of bringing him to the salon where they charge even the water that he accidentally swallows. Above all he is good company.  
They had met when Jiho had volunteered at the shelter during the summer two years prior. Theirs hadn't been one of those love at first sight kind of stories, they didn't play catch against the sunset at the end of Jiho's first shift. It had been a steady 'you-give-me-more-food-I-might-let-you-pet-me' kind of story, and at the end of the summer Jiho had the pleasure of bringing home an overweight dog with a strict diet regimen. At least Rodney's creamy fur compliments Jiho's somber taste in home decoration.  
On the way home they stop at a pizza parlor, Jiho doesn't particularly feel like cooking today. When they step in Rodney perks up at the heavenly smell of nicely melted mozzarella and pepperoni, but Jiho gives him the eye and he immediately relaxes. Rodney is the most well behaved dog there is when food is concerned. From the wide array of ready-to-go pizzas in the display Jiho quickly points at those who look most likely to give him a heart-attack and they are out in less than five minutes.  
When they step out the rain has picked up, but Jiho forgot his umbrella and he is not really going to wait it out while his pizza cools off. With Rodney very seriously guarding the pizza carton he fast-walks towards his apartment.

 

He forgot to close the bathroom window. By the time they're home the rain is pouring and his bathroom floor is covered with water and dead leaves. It takes him half-an-hour to clean it all up and then he decides he might as well shower. By the time he is done – and has taken his time cleaning up Rodney too, after almost having a stroke when the dog tried to jump on the couch with his muddy paws – his pizza is cold.  
While it heats up, he takes a beer from the fridge and grabs the mail from where he left it on the kitchen table after coming back from work. Quietly sitting in his corner, Rodney eyes his empty bowl and then Jiho with an 'I'm ready when you are ready' kind of look, but years spent with the beast taught Jiho that only food can distract Rodney from other food, namely Jiho's.

“Just a little more patience, buddy,” he soothes as he scrolls over advertisement fliers, a couple of bills and a yellow envelope that despite its innocuous look makes Jiho already uncomfortable. It is addressed to him, undoubtedly, his name has been written clearly above his address, and when he turns it around he sees the logo of his old high-school, emblazoned on a corner.  
He puts aside all the other letters and takes a seat at the kitchen table. Rodney sighs loudly from his corner. He rips it open without really paying attention, managing to rip the letter in the process. It's an invitation, there is a card with the address of the restaurant that will host the event and a letter attached that explains that the 'X High-School's Music Club' is planning a reunion in occasion of the fifth year since the graduation of their youngest members.  
The ding of the microwave startles him out of his stupor. He crushes the letter and the card, throws everything in the trash and sets to prepare Rodney's dinner.

 

 

 

◄◄

 

The clock on the wall above the board might as well start ticking backwards, Jiho slumps a little in his chair, his doodles cover half of the page already and whatever resemblance of notes has been swamped. Numbers were never his forte.  
His phone gives a short vibration in his pocket, followed by several, irritating ones. Not even bothering to follow anymore, he fishes it out of his pocket and finds one message and eight stupid emoticons from Park Kyung. He sends a murderous one back, just to balance the abundance of gooey eyes staring at him from the screen, and then reads the message.

Park Kyung 11:08  
>>> come over later ;)

Jiho has long since given up on trying to stop Kyung from being... well Kyung. Overly affective, unnecessarily suggestive. He sends an O.K., because 'come over' translates into free lunch from Kyung's sister's restaurant.  
Kyung is the only one he kept in touch with from his old high-school. A little after graduating, he had come to understand that friendships require a lot more work, when you're not on top of each other most of the day most of the week. It hadn't been particularly painful, just a little disappointing, a sort of background bitterness.  
Anyway, Kyung was the only one that really stuck. Like glue or a very annoying gum on the sole of your shoe. He had barreled into Jiho's life and made room for himself in all the pile of unsorted clothes, bad mistakes and generally unanswered questions, and stayed.

 

At lunch Jiho takes a little detour to hand in a paper to a very demanding professor. It takes him a little longer than he thought to find the right office, so he is late to his date with Kyung, who apparently hasn't noticed.

“I already ordered,” is the greeting Jiho gets when he slides on the chair in front of his friend.

“So, what's going on?”

Kyung looks thoughtfully at the pitcher of water in the middle of the table. “I was thinking of getting a pet,” he says shredding his napkin. “But then I didn't want any poor Snowball on my conscience so I got myself a cactus.”

“Nice. Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?” Jiho pours himself a glass of water, but doesn't drink yet.

Kyung nudges his glass towards him and Jiho pours one for him too. The restaurant is almost empty at this time of the day, it's well past two in the afternoon and the lunch rush is over. Jiho only has one hour to eat and rush back to class and he really wishes his sixty minutes of total relax weren't turned into an impromptu psychoanalytic session.

“The guys are having this free-style battle next week,” Kyung begins, then takes a sip of water to let Jiho acquaint with the idea. “You should come by to cheer for me.”

“When is that?” he asks, and takes a sip of water because suddenly his throat feels a little dry. He must be coming down with something.

“Friday, we're going around nine, but... you know.”

Yes, he says he knows. More than knowing, he remembers. I'll see, he says, because that's the safe answer, the one that won't bring him trouble until Saturday morning, or maybe ever. He is not going to say that he's not going because he's afraid of everything he left behind and all the things he is losing in this progressive mutation. It's a shift, slow and painful, it leaves him raw and open and he really doesn't need salt to make it sting even more. But Kyung means well, he always does, because Jiho is his friend and he wants to help. This, though, is not the kind of help Jiho needs right now.

“How are my growing boys?” Kyung's sister chirps as she brings over their orders.

“Ah, noona, when are you going to stop this nonsense,” Kyung laments obnoxiously. Jiho laughs and thanks her, easily slipping into this new kind of normalcy.

 

 

 

►►

 

Rodney is chewing on a fake bone under the table when Kyung arrives. It's still weird to see him wearing fitting slacks and a tie on every morning of the week, but Jiho thinks it's a given, since Kyung is now the CEO and has quite a reputation to up-hold.

“So how's the second most eligible bachelor doing in this grey evening?” he mocks when Kyung slumps in the chair opposite of him with a grunt. Jiho waves to the ajhumma behind the stand and she readily brings over two bowls of scalding hot ramyeon.

Rodney perks up at that, and so does Kyung, who loses his jacket and tie as Jiho pours them both a shot of soju. “Still thriving for first place. That Kim Joonmyeon has nothing on me.”

Jiho remembers when just the thought of a tie made Kyung cringe. “Bow-ties all the way, man” he used to say in a very accented English, when the discourse strayed to families and expectations. They had both chosen economics to appease their parents, one in hopes to find a quiet job the other to get his rich father off his back while he did his own thing. Back then Jiho already knew he'd probably end up with an anonymous desk job, but Kyung hoped, Kyung wanted and reached out and Jiho both envied and hated him for it.

“So did you get the invitation?” Kyung has broth-mustache and blood-shot eyes, not the best combination. It must have been a stressful week.

“Mh,” he answers, around a mouthful of noodles. Rodney is slumping over his legs, probably trying to remind him that he wouldn't mind a taste of whatever Jiho is having since he's such a great dog and everything. Jiho won't give in, though, if only not to have Kyung to tease him about him and his chubby lovechild.

“We are going together, right?” Kyung pours them both another shot.

Jiho drinks to his ability to make awesome friends and to the crumble of paper he'll have to fish out from the garbage.

 

They don't go together in the end. Kyung sends him a mail from the office around noon, lots of sad emojis and a 'I have been abducted. You go ahead. If I don't see you there I'll unleash the dragon on you.' The dragon, or Kyung's personal assistant who, in Jiho's opinion, is a very lovely lady and not at all a fire breathing monster.  
Anyway, that's how Jiho finds himself walking alone towards the restaurant where the reunion is being held. The rain is pouring and he got half wet trying to get his umbrella from the trunk of the car, where he had smartly left it the day before. There is someone standing under the awning of the restaurant when Jiho finally reaches it. The man is wearing a heavy wool coat and a scarf that covers half his face, he is looking straight ahead and fidgets a little when Jiho steps closer to take shelter from the rain.  
Jiho should probably go inside, it's cold and he's wet, but there something in the stranger's profile that sparks a fickle of recognition inside of him. Trying to remember when he saw this man before, but not really wanting to look like a weirdo, he takes his time closing his umbrella. Maybe they met by chance somewhere, maybe he just looks like someone else and Jiho is here side-eying him for nothing. And yet, there must something else, something Jiho isn't remembering now, but he should.

“Are you here for the music club reunion?” the guy is looking at him, talking to him and Jiho is a little struck by the familiarity in that voice.

“Ehm.. yes, I-... I'm sorry, do I know you?”

The guy hides a chuckle behind his scarf. “No, you... you actually don't,” he says, and the way he says it makes Jiho's stomach twist, like that shouldn't have been the answer...

“You should go in,” he's probably smiling as he says so, Jiho can't really tell. He nods, rather dumbly, and walks in trying to shrug off that weird feeling along with the cold.

 

The room they booked is packed. There are three long tables filled with people whose faces Jiho remembers much younger and fuller. Maybe he should have waited in his car for Kyung to arrive, question dodging is not really his forte and digging up in the past few years in front of people who thought he'd go out to rock the world is even less his thing. Someone shouts his name then and he recognizes Pyo Jihoon, cute underclassmen who played the trumpet, he is smiling an waving. Jiho always had a soft spot for the kid. He joins him at the end of the table and makes sure to grab a seat for Kyung too, not really feeling brave enough to go solo for the whole night.  
Jihoon apparently is a real-tor, market is a little tough now, and his girlfriend is bugging him to move in together. His mother keeps sending him food from the country even though he tells her not to. It's been too long since Jiho has been in a place when actual social interaction was required, so when Jihoon smiles and looks at him for a beat too long and asks: “So, what have you been up to?”, Jiho stumbles a little.

“I am an accountant,” he says contemplating his reflection on the glass of beer in front of him. If there is disinterest, delusion, surprise in Jihoon's eyes Jiho honestly doesn't want to see it. “I got a dog, his name is Rodney,” it sounds even lamer when he says it out loud. He doesn't add my girlfriend broke up with me because I have commitment issues.

“Oh, Jaehyo-hyung came too,” Jihoon is straining his neck to to look beyond the people milling around the entrance. When Jiho turns to look, there he is, the guy from the front door.  
He is talking with the flutes girls, smiling with the right amount of teeth and eyes to look infuriatingly handsome. Jiho can't look at him for too long.

“He was in the music club too?” he asks, turning back to Jihoon.

“No, he was friends with Minhyuk, the cello guy.”

Jaehyo sits at a different table with Minhyuk, the cello guy. He remains a nagging thought at the back of Jiho's neck, until Kyung swats him like a fly when he makes his grand entrance.

 

The morning after the reunion, Jiho is hammered. Rodney seems to take pity on him, and sits quietly at the foot of the bed. Take your time, he seems to be saying, but Jiho can hear his tail wagging, hitting the floor at an unnerving pace.

“You know,” he sounds like a chain-smoker, gravelly and rough. “I think I'm never going to get up.”

Avoiding all reflecting surfaces, not really up to face death first thing in the morning, Jiho starts the shower. Between shampooing and conditioning, the thought of Ahn Jaehyo starts bugging him again. It pops up out of nowhere, one moment he was thinking about grabbing a bite to eat out, after walking Rodney, and then he was thinking of what would be the odds of him randomly meeting Ahn Jaehyo again. It's a stray thought, one meant for a brief laugh, a small shrug and then dissolve into sparkly dust. That is what should have happened, yet, as he steps out of the shower he is thinking about how he would go about asking Ahn Jaehyo to have coffee together. While he blow-dries his hair, he wonders if he could get his hands on his year book, and five minutes later, Rodney hot on his heels, he is typing 'Ahn Jaehyo' into Facebook's search tab.

“What am I doing?” he mumbles to himself, massaging his temples in circular motions.

There is only one Ahn Jaehyo, age twenty-eight, and according to his Facebook bio, he is a high-school teacher. Everything else is set private, and his profile picture is a blurry close up of and eye and a quarter of a nose, it could be anyone.  
Jiho closes his laptop with a little too much force, trying to shut away whatever lingering interest he has in this unsettling feeling that seems to have taken permanent residence in his stomach. Trying to find some sort of comfort he calls Kyung, who, despite the adverse circumstances, has turned in to work and is currently reading kilos of reports under the scrutiny of his secretary.

“I'm only allowed bathroom breaks, sorry,” he really sounds apologetic, but Jiho has the feeling he enjoys this little game of power with that devilish woman a little too much.

So he goes out alone, as alone as one can feel with a bouncing, easily excitable monster on a leash. They have time, since Jiho was farsighted enough to get the day off after the reunion and has no real plans for the day. Mostly, Jiho needs fresh air and to be outside the confining space of his apartment, it is clear that he is going out of his mind.  
When Rodney's need to run and chase and roll and sniff is sated enough for him to listen to what Jiho has to say, they walk to a cozy diner that accepts dogs and Jiho frequents from time to time when he is too lazy to cook for himself.  
It's too early for lunch so he opts for toast and eggs with coffee. The eggs are soft, the toast is crunchy and all is right in the world. This is just what he needed. He is comfortably eating with Rodney half dozing off at his feet, when the metaphorical rug is puled from under his ass and he almost not so metaphorically falls off his chair.

“Hi,” is what Jaehyo says when he spots Jiho. He has his coffee to go in his left hand while his left is hanging on the strap of a worn messenger bag.

“Hi,” is what Jiho sputters back, thinking about how not even two hours before he was stalking this man on Facebok. God, this is awkward.

“What a coincidence,” Jaehyo smiles, just a hint, but it looks like his whole face muscle respond to the slight movement of his mouth and spasm a little, like they are trying to restrain themselves from smiling too much. Jiho is torn between finding it disconcerting and disconcertingly attractive.

“Yeah,” he can feel Rodney's weight lift from his feet, when he sneaks a glance he sees his dog interestedly looking at Jaehyo. “D-do you want to seat?” smooth, Jiho, very smooth.

Jaehyo glances swiftly towards the door, probably he has things to do, places to be, but decides he can spare Jiho a few minutes as he slides on the seat opposite of Jiho and bends under the table to give Rodney a pat on the head.

“From our meeting yesterday, I take it you don't remember me,” Jaehyo doesn't look particularly bothered, his observation is merely circumstantial. He takes a sip of his coffee and when Jiho shyly nods, he smiles. “Ah, well, we only had one class together and I was... well the odd one out.”

“What class?” Jiho asks, late breakfast forgotten.

“Art,” Jaehyo says it through his teeth and washes down the word with a sip of coffee. “I was a senior in a class full of first years... ”

Something clicks inside Jiho's mind. He blinks as he recalls the way Jaehyo's shoulders slumped when their teacher dug apples and peaches out of her bag, and how he would sit on the sidelines when they went out to draw in the nature. What's most disconcerting is that now that he remembers he can't understand how he didn't see it before, Jaehyo just like he was in high-school.

“They all tell me that, when I'm at work only the uniform helps me stand out from the crowd of students. You haven't changed much either,” he says looking somewhere behind Jiho's shoulder.  
He feels nothing like his high-school self, though hearing Jaehyo saying it, even if it's just for formalities, feels nice. Self-consciously, he rakes a hand through his messy hair, he should have bothered with a brush this morning.  
Jaehyo is particularly chatty, Jiho doesn't know if he is just naturally comfortable around virtual strangers or if he is just a very friendly person. He likes it, though, how Jaehyo seems to be comfortable talking about his job and making Jiho talk about his without feeling inadequate or boring. He wishes he had actually taken his time knowing Jaehyo back in high-school.

“Hey I-... ”

Jaehyo's phone rings then, cutting Jiho off. The small smile Jaehyo has on when he checks the ID is something Jiho has wished for so many times in the past. It is both loving and adoring, is the smallest show of pure happiness and yet the most genuine one.

“It's my fiance, she's going crazy about the flowers... ” Jaehyo lets out a small laugh. Something breaks inside Jiho, it's almost unnoticeable, but he can feel drops of shame and anger and regret, slowly but surely filling his chest, spreading to all nooks and crannies. It's so unexpected and irrational, and it burns, so much that Jiho almost thinks he's about to have an heart attack.

“I have to go, but let's keep in touch, ok?” he takes a napkin and, after a little rummaging, he takes a blue marker out of his bag. Quickly, Jaehyo scribbles down his number and adds a little smiley face instead of his name. He grabs his cup of coffee, pets Rodney behind the ears, just how the dog likes best, and like that, with a final wave, Jaehyo is gone. 

 

 

■  
STOP.

 

 

-side B: Life doesn't give you the people you want. It gives you the people you need.

 

►  
PLAY.

 

“Jiho! You are going to be late!” his mother's voice carries. As in she has a built in megaphone in her throat and she could probably forgo the phone and just scream at the open window to talk with their relatives in California. That said it's not surprising when it pierces right through the thick veil of deep slumber Jiho's mind is under.  
The picture Jiho gets as soon as he opens his eyes is of his mother, still in her nightgown, with her foot on the last step of the stairs, a hand on her cocked hip. He knows that if he doesn't answer in 0.1 seconds she's going to bound up the stairs and throw him off the bed.

“I'm up!” he screams, coughing when the p gets stuck in his throat. “I'm coming,” he adds in a lower voice, trying to disentangle himself from the covers. He had a very wild night, fighting to save the last fruit tart from the grabby hands of his voracious brother.

Rolling off he falls flat on his face, groaning at the feeling of something digging in his side. It's a book, thick and pointy. He got it from the library the day before for a science research on the Milky Way. How it went from his desk to half tucked under his bed, Jiho doesn't know. Rolling over, he checks for little legs sprouting out of the book cover, but nothing.  
With a final sigh, he gets up.

 

There is something in getting at school early in the morning, that gives Jiho chills. Walking down the almost empty hallways makes him feel like the unfortunate protagonist of a horror movie. He bows to his gym teacher, waves to Taeil-hyung from the music club, and makes his way towards the vending machines near the cafeteria for a snack to entertain himself with until lunch time.  
He is almost there when he hears someone whisper angrily from behind the corner.

“Can't you come get her?” someone says, probably into the receiver of a phone, because no one answers, but the conversation continues. “No, I don't have time... yeah, I got it... ”

Jiho is not one to snoop and he is not going to start now, so he rounds the corner and finds Ahn Jaehyo, the senior from his art class, fixing what looks like a very stubborn young girl, with a very stern stare. When the duo spots Jiho, the girl doesn't bat an eyelash, looking at Jiho with the utmost disinterest, while Ahn Jaehyo's eyes widen and he quickly closes the phone-call.

“Good morning sunbae,” Jiho greets, politely bowing his head.

“G-good morning,” Jaehyo looks between Jiho and the kid with apprehension. “This is my sister, Hwa-young.” Jaehyo jerks his hand towards the little girl, who looks positively proud in front of his older brother's discomfort.

“I'm Woo Jiho, nice to meet you, Hwa-young,” Jiho bows out of politeness and smiles, making the girl's cheeks turn a little pink. “I was going to get something to eat,” he explains, pointing at the vending machines right behind the siblings.

Hwa-young pouts, looking sulkily at the selection of candies and snacks behind the glass. She is wearing a baby blue uniform Jiho doesn't recognize, and her hair is braided in two ponytails that reach mid-back. A cute kid, if only a little stubborn.

“Oppa,” she drags the sillables definitely sucking up, Jiho barely contains a laugh when Jaehyo looks at her with dismay. She must be a handful.

“What do you want? Noona is going to be here soon,” his patience is wearing thin.

Jiho chooses a pan with sweet beans jelly filling and starts feeding coins to the machine. During class Jaehyo is always sitting on the edge of his stool, composed, but ready to bolt as soon as the bell rings. The only emotions Jiho has seen on his face are despair and resignation. All this liveliness catches him slightly off guard.  
There is a sigh and when Jiho turns, pan in hand, he finds Jaehyo standing behind him, trying to scrape up enough to buy his sister a candy bar. The monster looks satisfied with herself, as she makes her pleated skirt sway left and right.

“I have no change,” Jaehyo's tone is flat, all emotions plucked out with pins made of self-restraint.  
Hwa-young is probably not stomping her feet because Jiho is there, and she doesn't want to look too bad. Jaehyo just shrugs when Jiho meets his eyes, and the sigh that escapes him next makes Jiho step in.

“Which one do you want?” Jiho looks at Hwa-young, whose face lights up and she points at the bag of small chocolate chip cookies. Jaehyo makes to protest, but Jiho has already fed the coins to the vending machine and Hwa-young almost squeals as the bag falls down.

“Don't worry, you can pay me back later.”

Jaehyo seems reassured and is about to say something when his phone rings. “It's my sister... Noona? Yes, we'll be right over,” he mouths a later to Jiho and then drags Hwa-young towards the school yard.

 

Jiho hates rain. No, that's not right. He hates rain when he has no umbrella and he has to walk home. Holding his bag over his head, he decides to make a dash for the convenience store at the end of the street and grab something to eat. His mother has the night shift this week, and it's a silent agreement between the male members of the family than when she does they are all entitled to a little more freedom.  
When he spots the familiar sign of the mini-market, he starts to run a little faster, and in his haste almost falls face first in the rack of journals and magazines covered with a plastic sheet to protect them from the rain. Turning to look at the ominous sky, he notices someone else standing on the other side of the door. He is surprised to find Ahn Jaehyo there, and his stomach clenches a little when the other turns and their eyes meet. He brushes the feeling off, though, smiling and rising a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” Jaehyo looks just as surprised. “It's pouring, huh?”

Jiho nods, awkwardly hiding his hands in his pockets, not really sure what to do with them. He would like to shake himself out of this giddy nervousness that seems to be thrumming through his body. It makes him antsy, as if his whole body were waiting for something, and his mind hadn't caught on yet.

“I should give you back your money,” Jaehyo says in a rush, scrambling to get his wallet out of his messenger bag.

Jiho waves him off, though, “Don't worry, it was just candy... really, it's fine.”

“Then let me buy you candy,” Jaehyo is stubborn, that much is obvious, Jiho laughs at his seriousness and nods.

“Candy it is then,” he says, as they enter the mini-market side to side.

 

 

►► ►►

 

As he climbs up the stair to his apartment, leash hanging loosely in his hand, Jiho goes through his mail. Rodney is a few steps ahead of him, eager to get home after a refreshing morning spent running around. There is a small blue envelope tucked between a post-card from his stupid hyung from Toronto, and a notice for a package, the logo of his old high-school is emblazoned on the left corner.  
Rodney makes a beeline for his mattress in the corner of the room as soon as the door is opened, letting himself fall on it like a dead body, in a dramatic showcase of tiredness. Jiho chuckles at his pet disposition for theatrics, and grabs a knife from the kitchen to open the blue envelope. It's an invitation to a reunion of their high-school music club, a week from today.  
He grabs his phone and dials Kyung's office. It's almost eleven in the morning and his friend could probably use a break.

“Kyung Park CEO's office, how may I help you?” the voice is unfamiliar, but Jiho has long since given up trying to guess just how many people work on Kyung's floor alone. Last time he was there there were four people sitting at tiny desks outside Kyungs' office just answering the phone.

“I'm Woo Jiho and I would like to speak with your boss,” the line disconnects, and Jiho waits as he is put through.

“I hope you know that some people are actually working at this hour, as baffling as that sounds,” Kyung sounds annoyed as he speaks in his authoritative CEO's voice.

“Yeah, can you imagine that?” Jiho throws back, smiling to himself.

Kyung barks out an unattractive laugh. “What do you want, Woo?”

“Did you get the invitation?” He flips the letter around quickly going over it again. “For the reunion.”

Kyung hums, he is probably loosening his tie, despite the strict office policy on proper working attire. “Yes, I did. Are you asking me to carpool, you cheap ass? Fine, fine... only because I'm such a kind heart I'll come get you.”

“Oh, I'm most thankful, kind sir,” Jiho pins the invitation to the refrigerator with a magnet, a dancing hula girl he got when he went to Hawaii, it was the tackiest thing he found on the souvenir stand and he thought it would suit him.

“I'll come get you at six,” Kyung says before excusing himself, he has _work_ , unlike _somebody else_.

Being a producer is hard work, he would like to say, but they both know he likes it too much to feel the weight of it like Kyung does with his work at the company. Complaining aside, Jiho can see how proud Kyung is of all he has archived, earning his way on top despite the adverse circumstances.

He heats up leftovers from his mother's last visit and and sets himself on the couch, in front of the TV. Rodney is quick to sit up, but Jiho gives him the stink eye and he slumps back down with a loud, disgruntled sigh.

“You heard the vet, snacks are out of the question,” he chides and Rodney merely rolls over, showing his pink belly.

 

◄◄ ◄◄

 

 

“You know,” Jaehyo is sprawled in the middle of the stage, brush still in hand while Jiho finishes painting a few stars on the dark blue sky. “When I agreed to keep you company I didn't agree to help you paint the Sistine Chapel.”

“You painted a flower, I wouldn't exactly call that help,” Jiho puts his paint stained hands on his hips, looking at Jaehyo with a raised eyebrow.

Jaehyo smiles, looking at Jiho upside down. The dark spots under Jaehyo's eyes look especially dark today, with finals approaching he has been particularly stressed out. This afternoon was supposed to help him unwind, Jiho had planned everything, but he had been roped into helping the drama club in exchange for an extra time slot for their music club practice. No amount of whining had moved their secretary and Jiho had dragged Jaehyo along.

“Would you like to take a break?”

Jaehyo nods, sitting up. In his backpack, Jiho has kimbap he has taken his time preparing this morning, but the auditorium wasn't really the background he had pictured for their small picnic. He hands the tupperware to Jaehyo, who promptly uncaps it and digs in.

“You made this?” Jaehyo asks between bites. Jiho nods, suddenly embarrassed by the two hours he spent on this and all the ruined attempts he has left in the fridge. “What a catch,” Jaehyo jokes nudging Jiho with his shoulder and making him blush even harder.

Jiho hides his face in his hands, nudging Jaehyo back. “Shut up,” he spits, but he has no bite and the smile he is trying to bite back gives him away anyway. 

“You even painted me stars,” Jaehyo slumps against Jiho's side, a tired sigh escapes his lips. Jiho accommodates him, lowering his shoulder so that Jaehyo can rest his head on it. Jaehyo pushes the half empty tupperware into his hands and mouths a silent thank you into Jiho's neck.

“It's nothing,” he whispers back.

 

 

►► ►►

 

“I didn't even have time to go home and change,” Kyung laments as the car pulls up in front of the restaurant. They are running a little late, but if even only half of the club showed up, no one will notice.  
Kyung leaves his tie and suit jacket on the backseat of the car, shrugging on a leather jacket he probably had prepared in advance. Jiho opted for something formally casual, not really sure what kind of night awaits them.  
A waiter directs them to a private room on the first floor. As they approach they can already hear a chorus of voices singing their school anthem, it's almost like a time travel back to those afternoons spent on top of each other inside the club room. Too hot in the summer, too cold in winter.  
When they slip in they find three long tables almost filled with the entirety of their old music club. Jiho recognizes most of them, and the first few minutes are spent exchanging greetings, hugs and bro fists. In the end they end up sitting at the end of the table further from the door, with an old junior of theirs, Pyo Jihoon, who keeps filling their glasses to the brim with soju.

“A real man knows how to hold his liquor,” he jokes, already pink cheeked.

Between his third and fourth glass, Jiho notices an awfully familiar face at the entrance of the room. Jaehyo looks good with chestnut brown hair that fall messily on his forehead, last time Jaehyo has seen him they had grown so much Jaehyo had to tie them up with borrowed hairpins and elastics. He still laughs with his whole body, mouth spreading as wide as it gets, and it is still grotesquely attractive, or maybe it's just the alcohol taking its toll on Jiho's judgement.

“Look, your sweetheart is here! Now the reunion is complete,” Kyung nudges him with his elbows, right between the ribs.

Jiho drowns another shot, liking how the hot liquor warms him up.  
He shoves Kyung right back.

 

After the food has been brought and thoroughly enjoyed, and only bottles are left on the table people start mingling, moving form one table to the next from one end of the room to the other. It's only normal that at some point Kyung disappears and a merry Jaehyo takes his place.  
Probably he had is fair share of alcohol too, and he slumps on the chair beside Jaehyo giggling.

“Hi,” he says, waving, perching his chin on his palm.

Jiho doesn't know if there are rules for talking to your high-school sweetheart after years of radio silence. but he knows Jaehyo, or at least he knew him, and rules don't apply here, they never applied to _them._

“You weren't even in the music club, what are you doing here?” he jokes, pouring them two shots of soju.

Jaehyo smiles, “Look at you, pouring alcohol for you hyungs,” he coos, reaching for Jiho's cheek and pinching. It doesn't hurt, but Jiho whines anyway, and makes to swat him away, but Jaehyo retreats his molesting hand.

“I'm here with Minhyuk, he was too chicken to come by himself,” he points to a blonde guy who is laughing his head off at the other end of their table. “I was free anyway.”

Jiho should probably have stopped drinking five shots ago, but how things usually go, the further away you step from the limit, the less you think about it and when you realize just how stupid you have been, you are hunched over your bathroom bowl cursing the world.  
Right now, though, Jiho just pours another shot and throws it back without thinking about it.

“You know,” Jaehyo's eyes are glassy, and every few words he erupts in giggles. Jiho is not better. “I always thought you'd look hot blonde.”

 

 

◄◄ ◄◄

 

 

From: Ahn Jaehyo 11:57 pm  
>>>Good luck :)

After two hours after he has received it, Jiho still can't get himself to answer. Thank you doesn't even begin to cover all Jiho would like to say. I'll be back speaks of promises he can't afford and everything else sounds too bland or too nostalgic or too selfish. He thinks Jaehyo would know anyway. Yet, with an airplane waiting for him in a few hours Jiho has run out of words to say.  
When Jiho first told him, Jaehyo smiled and said “Go. If there is someone who can do it, it's you.”

“Aren't you going to miss me?” Jiho joked, nudging Jaehyo's foot with the tip of sneaker.

“It's not like you are going on the other side of the world,” Jaehyo had thrown back. It wasn't even that funny, but bad humor had always been a thing between them and they both laughed breathlessly.

“I'm still not sure,” Jiho murmured, and Jaehyo took his face between his warm hands and kissed him silly, his way of saying we will talk about this later.  
Later, ended up with ice-cream smeared all over Jiho's face by a very disgruntled Jaehyo. Face red, and short of breath after a very loud round of shouting, Jaehyo had resorted to throwing the closest thing he could reach, namely ice-cream. Jiho was glad he hadn't brought anything more solid Jaehyo could have hurled at him.

“You need to grow up,” his tone was decisive, and his eyes were particularly bright.

Jiho felt his breath hitch in his throat. He didn't say yes I will, didn't dare to open his mouth, were he to sprout some of that mushy nonsense sometimes kind of flew through his head sometimes when he thought about the weight of Jaehyo's hands on his hips. He stuffed his hand in the half melted tub of ice-cream and, with a stupid grin on his face, he spread it on both of Jaehyo's cheeks.

“You too,” he said.

To: Ahn Jaehyo 3:38 am  
>>> :)

 

►►

 

“So, are you a new man?” Kyung has very kindly come to get him at the airport, and is, in a very strong display of friendship, carrying Jiho's bags. He must have missed him quite a lot.

“I don't know, do I look like a new man?” he asks back, straightening his white button up.

He doesn't feel new, honestly, different maybe, but he didn't travel that far to shed away his old self, bury him deep down and forget him, he wanted to improve, use his weaknesses as trampolines and work his way up from there. His back is straighter, his hands firmer as they grip on his dream and don't plan on let go ever again.

“I don't know about that, but the face is still ugly,” Kyung gifts him with a smug smile and Jiho really feels back home.

Kyung came with 'the less flashy of his babies', because he didn't want to Jiho to feel bad about the red Volvo that he used to drive back in the US. As they cramp in the little convertible, Jiho is glad he only has a very small bag with him and was thoughtful enough to ship everything ahead.  
As Kyung drives him to his new apartment, a small place he rented without even stepping in it once, Jiho tries to acquaint himself with the change of scenery, ease back in to his old life.  
His phone rings with messages and missed calls he'll have to got through later, after he has been at his parent's house to be fed and babied enough to last him until New Year's.

“Have you left anyone to wet their pillows for you?” Kyung has knowing grin on.

Jiho could humor him, smile and tell hm what Kyungsoo actually wants to hear, juicy gossips about his adventurous love life, but he doesn't have any of that, or at least not the kind Kyung would want to hear.

“No, didn't see the point. I'm not going back,” he says, fingering the sleek profile of his phone in his lap.

 

►► ►►

 

 

Jiho can barely contain his laughter as he punches in the passcode to his apartment. Jaehyo is hanging off his shoulders, his giggles tickling his neck and sending pleasurable tingles down his back.

“Sshh... ” Jiho can barely articulate. After the second bar everything became kind of hard – no pun intended – and the invitation sort of stumbled out of his mouth.

They shuffle in, Rodney is already there, wagging his tail and whining, not happy with being left home. Jiho closes the door behind them and Jaehyo sinks on his knees to pet the dog, who is clearly pleased by all the attention. Jiho toes off his shoes, huffing when he almost falls on his ass doing so. Jaehyo is laughing at him, and Rodney looks at him weirdly, quietly sitting beside Jaehyo as their guest takes off his boots.

“I see how it is,” he mumbles to himself, dragging his feet to the kitchen to get some water.

He is pouring two tall glasses of water when Jaehyo joins him. His hands sneak under Jiho's shirt and his mouth latches to his neck. He can hear the telltale sound of Rodney's nails on the hardwood floor and he can't think of getting off in front of his baby. No, not going to happen.  
He bites back a moan, as he turns around in Jaehyo's hold.

“Hyung,” he whispers breathlessly and likes how Jaehyo rolls his hips as soon as the word has left his mouth. Focus, Jiho, focus. Not really able to form coherent sentences he pushes Jaehyo back and drags him towards his bedroom.  
Jaehyo really doesn't need much convincing and throws himself on Jiho's bed, almost falling off when he bounces back. The squeaky laugh Jiho lets out is just as embarrassing though, and soon they are reduced to two laughing messes, Jaehyo curled on Jiho's bed and Jiho almost on his knees, still holding on the handle of his bedroom door.  
When he closes it Jaehyo gives him an interrogative look, but the sound of paws scraping and a low whining is an answer itself. Apparently the notion that Jiho is uncomfortable with having sex in front of his dog is hilarious and has Jaehyo almost choke on his tongue from too much laughter. Trying to shut him up Jiho hits him with a pillow, repeatedly, but that only makes him laugh harder and in the end it's not even worth it. Jiho collapses beside him, out of breath.  
Jaehyo is still giggling as he leaves butterfly kisses on Jiho's forehead and eyelids and mouth. Taking his time, he makes sure Jiho has been thoroughly kissed, with his lips are red and swollen, biting on the plump flesh until it hurts to touch. Jaehyo's shirt barely reaches mid-torso before Jiho's hands just give up on the task completely and just grab at whatever piece of fabric they can reach to pull Jaehyo closer closer closer. Jaehyo hums contentedly as he admires his work, dragging his thumbs on Jiho's cherry red lips, before he draws him towards his chest and just like that they fall asleep.

 

►  
PLAY.


End file.
